Optical Illusions
by Pinkie Tuscadaro
Summary: Craig deals with some sexual confusion after Marco kisses him.
1. Chapter 1

I wasn't homophobic like Spinner, I knew that. Because it didn't matter so much, what other people did. Or didn't do. It came down to who you liked, and who you were attracted to. It was all good.

So when Marco came out it was fine. It wasn't really that big of a shock. He had never been destroyed over girls like the rest of us, that's a big clue right there. Like when Ashley cheated on Jimmy, that destroyed him. And when Paige blew off Spinner for that guy from that other school, that guy from Bardell, Spinner was crushed. And of course my disaster with Manny and Ashley. Girls. Man, they can put you through the ringer. But not Marco.

So then Dylan springs it on Marco that he wants to see other people, too. But Marco wasn't into that, and it wrecked his plans of moving in with Dylan, graduating early, all of that. He was moping around, being all angsty. So I figured I'd go to that college party with Marco and help him get Dylan back. Because I wanted to be a good friend, in a way. I knew I was kind of self centered. I didn't mean to be but I was. Marco wasn't like that. He was able to look beyond himself and show interest and concern for the rest of us.

We get to the party and it's alright. Good music and everything. There weren't that many girls there but whatever. And Dylan and Marco seemed to be getting along okay, and I figured just coming here had helped Marco. I felt pretty good. Helping someone else for once, not always being the one who needed help.

But then Dylan was flirting with other guys and I could see Marco getting all destroyed, losing his mind. So we're sitting in the stairwell and I tried to cheer him up, telling him how nice and great he was. And he was. And I noticed that he was good looking, in a strictly observational way. I wasn't attracted to him. I wasn't.

Then Dylan came over, looking for Marco. And that's when Marco kissed me. He put his hands on my cheeks and kissed me. I froze. I didn't know what to do. And I didn't know why it felt kind of good. Dylan took off and I just sat there, my mouth open in surprise.

"I didn't know what to do," Marco said.

"When in doubt you kiss Craig?" I said, my lips still tingling from the kiss. It was different from kissing girls. Their kisses are soft, gentle. That kiss was stronger, more aggressive, and I felt that little stomach twisting feeling when he did that.

"Maybe I'd better go work things out with Dylan," Marco said.

"Yeah, maybe you'd better," I said, and I sounded kind of mad. Upset, at least. And I was upset. Marco took off and I just stayed there. What the fuck was that? He kissed me? This sort of rocked my not being homophobic boat. Because it was fine for other people to do whatever they wanted, but not so fine for them to do it to me. I'd been fine with girls, I liked girls. Liked the way they smelled and the way they looked, liked how they felt and how they made me feel. So what the fuck was up with Marco kissing me and what the fuck was up with the fact that I liked it?

I hung my head. I wasn't gay. I didn't want to be gay. But, but that kiss was exciting and forbidden and Marco was good looking, and maybe it wasn't just an observation.

Oh well. Whatever. I'd forget it. That was all. No one knew except Dylan, so what did it matter anyway? And it's not like Marco likes me like that, he likes Dylan. He just wanted to make Dylan jealous, that's all it was.

So if that's all it was why did I feel so confused all of a sudden?


	2. Chapter 2

"Craig! Marco's here!" I was in the garage, fooling around on my guitar, just strumming easy chords. I couldn't seem to concentrate well enough to do any more than that. I heard Joey scream to me that Marco was here and I felt that weird feeling again, like I was on a roller coaster that had been slowly climbing to the top and then it took off down the rise. I felt like that, how I used to feel with Manny and Ashley.

"Okay! I'm in the garage!" I yelled back, and now even the easy chords were too much for me so I put the guitar down and waited for Marco to appear.

"Craig, hey buddy," Marco said, just breezing in, putting his stuff down on the couch. He smiled that wide sexy smile and I just watched him cautiously. He was acting like he hadn't kissed me the other night. So I guessed we were forgetting it. That would be fine with me.

"Hi," I said, and my weird tone made Marco look at me quick.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I couldn't act normal. I felt all nervous. I was screwed.

"Okay. Well, listen. I dumped Dylan. He just won't let it go, wanting to see other people. I can't have it like that, I can't have my boyfriend slutting around with every cute thing at college, I mean, you know?"

Marco was cute, I couldn't help noticing that. His dark eyes and black hair and just, I didn't quite know. I knew he was a boy, I mean, I didn't like boys like this. But he was pretty cute.

"Yeah, I know,"

Marco babbled on about it for awhile, all angst full like he got. I let him talk, sat down on the couch and listened. Kept noticing things about him, like how his muscles moved under his clothes and how his bangs hung over his forehead and how he moved his hands when he would talk. That was an Italian thing, I knew. And the whole while I felt fucked because I knew I wanted to kiss him again.

"So do you see how miserable I am?" he pleaded with me, and sat down hard right next to me and I felt his body against mine and I liked it and hated it at the same time. It felt hot and cold. Lust and fear. And I thought girls were complicated.

"Yeah," I was sort of speechless, I didn't know what to say now.

"I've got to do something to forget about him, at least for tonight. Any ideas?"

He looked at me with his big eyes, really pretty eyes for a guy, and I scrambled to think of something we could do.

"Sully's parents are out of town. He's having a party at his place tonight. We could go," I said. I knew no one else would be there, Jimmy and Spinner and Paige and Ashley and everyone, I knew they wouldn't be there.

Marco agreed and went home to get ready. The party was going all night but I figured we could get there around nine or so.

"Craig," I jumped at the sound of Joey's voice as I walked into the house.

"What?"

"You're a little jumpy tonight," Joey was amused, like he usually was when I was acting halfway normal. He seemed to think all the traumas of my life were amusing.

"I'm fine," I was always telling him that but as far as I could tell it had never been true. I wasn't fine because I couldn't stop thinking about kissing Marco and Marco was a boy so maybe I was gay, too. That's all I'd need. Or maybe I was bi. Bi would be much better. Bi-polar and bi-sexual. That made complete sense.

"What are you doing?" Angela's squeaky voice outside the bathroom door as I got the hairdryer and the mousse.

"Trying to fix my hair," I said in disgust. It was way too curly and I was sick of that. I wanted it to be straight and normal and I'd look sexy that way, I knew it.

"Why? Are you going on a date?"

"No," I said quick, but she had a point. I was just going to that party with Marco and everyone there would be completely shit faced so what was I going through all this trouble with my hair for? But I knew. Of course I did.

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The party was loud when we showed up and Sully had a nice fucking house. It had cathedral ceilings and everything looked new, all the furniture and the artwork and the entertainment system.

"Wow, man, look at this house," Marco said, and I nodded.

"Let's find the kitchen," I said, because I knew the alcohol was there and I'd been noticing Marco's good looks ever since he came by my house and I could smell his cologne and I felt kind of dizzy and I wanted to drink. Marco trailed after me as I headed through the living room and all the noise.

It was one of those kitchens with the stainless steel refrigerator and marble counter tops and recessed lighting and high ceilings. The table was this solid block of oak gleaming like a mirror. There were like a million drinks sitting on that table.

"What do you want to drink?" I said to him, opening the refrigerator and seeing a wall of beer and wine coolers.

"A wine cooler," he said, peering over my shoulder at what was in there. I handed him a wine cooler that was a baby blue and had pineapple and coconut flavors. He twisted the cap off and tossed it into the overflowing trash.

"What are you having?" Marco said, sipping his wine cooler.

"Something with vodka in it,"

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After a couple of drinks I felt better, more relaxed. And it was easier to admit that I thought Marco was good looking. So what? I didn't think any other boy was good looking. And I could admit that I liked it when he kissed me. It felt good.

We were in the living room and the music was so loud I could almost see it. My drink had slipped a little and the glass was sticky but I was drinking it anyway. Marco was still drinking a wine cooler but I didn't know if it was still his first or not, but he didn't seem drunk. People were all around us, jostling and shoving sometimes, and there was this constant flow to the kitchen to freshen up drinks. I thought Marco was still looking a little sad over Dylan and I wished I could make him feel better.

"Man, there's a lot of people here," he said.

"Yeah, that's what makes it a party," Shit. My words were just so slightly slurred. I was drunk.

"Let's go upstairs," he suggested, "it's probably quieter up there,"

I stood up and swayed, clung to my drink like it would keep me from falling. I followed Marco through the crowd and up the stairs, each riser covered with a thick pale pink rug. The railing was gleaming oak like the kitchen table. It felt smooth under my hand. The stairs curved slightly and the upstairs was huge, not like Joey's place. At Joey's the upstairs had three bedrooms and the bathroom, all tucked under the roof.

There were so many rooms up here. There was one room just as stuffed with people as the living room had been. There was a T.V. that was on and a radio blaring and all the people talking and Marco looked at me with that Marco look, as if to say, 'this is better?'

"C'mon," he said, pulling my arm. I let him pull me, out of that room and into the long hall with all the closed doors off of it. He pushed on one door that was open just a little and we went into a dark bedroom, the only light was the light from the window. I could make out the shape of a double bed and a dresser against the wall.

We didn't turn on the lights, but my eyes adjusted and I could see pretty well after awhile. I set my drink on the dresser. Marco put his blue wine cooler next to it.

"Hey, Craig," Marco said, looking up at me, and he sounded more drunk than I thought he was, "you remember that party at Dylan's dorm the other night?"

"Yeah," I said, my voice thick.

"Well, did you like it?" He leaned into me, making me stumble back and I fell against the end of the bed and sat down. Marco put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me gently so I was laying down and he was on top of me. I liked the feel of his weight against me.

"Did you like it when I kissed you like that?" he said, and it seemed kind of aggressive and forward for Marco, but I guessed he had more experience in this sort of thing with boys than I did.

"Yeah," I whispered, my eyes wide, and he smiled at me and laughed a little.

"I'm gonna do it again, okay?" he said, and before I knew it he was kissing me again.


	3. Chapter 3

I was kissing a boy. Kissing him this time, flicking his tongue with mine, feeling the smooth line of his teeth, his lips against mine. He held my wrists, pressed them into the bed. Not hard but I tried to free one and he tightened up. I wasn't trapped, I was stronger than Marco and could free myself if I wanted to.

"Marco-"

"No 'Marco'," he said, smiling, his eyes half shut, "shhhh,"

Aggressive. He kissed me harder, pushed his weight into me. I liked it, liked it better than pulling teeth with Ashley. Even Manny, she was so pliable, letting me do whatever I wanted. I liked this, I let him kiss me and I kissed him back, feeling his weight on top of me, his hands pushing on my wrists, keeping me pinned to the bed.

He stopped kissing me, freed one of my wrists, trailed his hand down my chest and stomach, I held my breath. His hand was at the button of my jeans and I panicked. Kissing was one thing but this?

"Marco-"

Now he looked at me, his eyes asking permission. I just looked at him wide-eyed. Shook my head.

"No," I said softly, pushing him off me, sitting up.

"C'mon, Craig," he said, and tried to kiss me. I turned my head away.

"No, Marco, it's too much,"

"Okay," he said, sitting next to me in the darkened bedroom, "we'll take it slow,"

Take it slow? There was no 'it', I wasn't, I wasn't doing this. I wasn't gay. I narrowed my eyes at him, seeing all his masculine features, the square jaw, the wide shoulders, narrow hips. What was I thinking?

I stood up, felt dizzy from the alcohol, put my hand on the wall to steady myself.

"Look, uh, hey, I better go," I said, and Marco watched me go. He looked a little dazed. I didn't have anywhere to go. Outside in the cool night air I just started walking. Walking fast, trying to outrace some train of thought I couldn't seem to deal with.

Street after street, the houses and driveways being replaced with concrete office buildings. I heard footsteps behind me and felt someone touch the back of my shirt. I whipped around, expecting someone to try and mug me or something. It was Marco, just Marco, all out of breath and looking angst-y again.

"Craig, look, I'm sorry,"

I shook my head. I didn't want an apology. I didn't know what I wanted. Maybe I wanted him to try harder. Or maybe I wanted him to leave me alone.


	4. Chapter 4

I leaned up against one of the concrete buildings and it felt cool against my back. Marco was looking at me with this pleading look that I couldn't quite interpret. I was too drunk. The world was spinning.

"Craig-"

"Look, Marco, I'm not gay,"

"I know that-"

"Do you?" I said it quick and sharp, just like my dad used to speak to me, and I hated myself for a second.

"Yeah, Craig, I know-"

"Then leave me alone," I started walking away fast. I didn't know what to do. Man, this sucked.

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Marco left me alone alright. We even avoided each other at school, but no one seemed to notice. I thought of going to his house or talking to him after class a dozen times but I couldn't seem to bring myself to do it.

"You've got to babysit Angie," Joey said, all dressed up in a fancy shirt and a tie. I was slouched on the couch.

"Joey, it's Friday night!"

"Yeah, and I've got a date and you've got to babysit," The T.V. flickered its shadowy bluish images at me but I barely paid attention. Somewhere above us Angie played with Barbie dolls.

"That's not fair,"

"Life's not fair,"

Fine. Whatever. I didn't care. It wasn't like I had any great plans or nothing anyway. He left and I watched him go, went upstairs and watched Ang play with the barbies. Read her a story, tucked her in, kissed her forehead.

"G'night," I said softly, and went downstairs to wait for Joey. A knock at the door and when I answered it Marco was standing there, looking at me.

"Uh, hi," I said, looking at his black hair shining under the streetlight.

"Hi. Can I come in?"

"Yeah,"

I went and sat down on the couch. He sat on the arm, hunched over and kind of huddled in his jacket, and I pressed my lips together and looked up at him.

"Where's Joey?"

"I don't know. He went out on a date,"

"Craig,"

I glanced at him, and he didn't say anything after my name. I didn't know what to say, either.

"Craig, are you mad?" he said. I shook my head. It wasn't about that, about being mad, I didn't think it was. Who would I be mad at? Him? Or me?

"Well?"

"I don't know-"

"Because I can't stand this!" he said, and slid off the arm of the couch and right into me. I smelled wine on him, and I could tell by the way his eyes looked that he'd been crying. He closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss me and I let him. He grabbed for the button of my jeans again and I let him undo them, felt that stomach twisting feeling as he twisted the button loose and reached for the zipper but I stopped his hand and he stopped kissing me, looked at me all breathless.

"Marco, I thought you liked Dylan," I said, and he closed his eyes and kissed me again, pressing against me, forcing me underneath him. He kept kissing me, even as I tried to pull away from him, and he reached for my zipper again and pulled it down with one quick motion and I rocked my hips toward him a little, I couldn't help it. I opened my mouth, leaned my head back and let him kiss me and I kissed him back. It was hard to fight it.

"Huh, Marco?" I pushed him off of me but he pushed against me, kept kissing me and he was strong, stronger than I thought he was.

"Yeah. No. I like you," he said, closing his eyes and kissing my neck, at the same time snaking his hand into my jeans and I panicked again, tried to push him off of me.

"Craig, it's okay," he said, his voice low and reassuring. I shook my head.

"No, Marco…"

He sat up, looking dazed and sort of sleepy, and he reached out and touched my hair, just twisted a little bit of it between his fingers and let it go.

"C'mon," he said, pulling me up.

"Where are we going?" I said, as he pulled on my arm, making me stumble after him.

"Up to your room,"


	5. Chapter 5

In my room, my back to the door. I'd been in here with him before, of course. They'd all been in here, Spinner and Jimmy and Sean. Not my other room, my room at my dad's house. Uh, I was so fucked up. Marco's on my bed, drunk, wanting to do God knows what, and I'm thinking about my dad and that house and how I never had anyone over there. I wouldn't dare.

It was all different this time in here with him, there was that charge in the air. I didn't know what he wanted to do but I didn't want to do it. Maybe I was scared. I stood against the door, ready to bolt if things started getting too…serious.

"Craig, come here," Marco said, leaning back on the bed. He smiled at me a little and I felt less nervous, but I didn't move.

Maybe it was the aggressor thing. With girls I'd always been the aggressor, I knew how to do that. I didn't know quite how to deal with this, with Marco seeming to be constantly pushing me to do things I wasn't sure I wanted to do. Was this how girls felt?

I took a deep breath and went over to the bed, stood beside it. I wondered how drunk he was.

"Jesus, Craig, I won't bite,"

I sat next to him, saw his smile widen and his eyes close. I was thinking all these things, like what if Joey comes home and walks in on us or what if Angela wakes up or what if someone else just pops over. Marco put his hand on my knee and was slowly moving his hand up my thigh. I watched him, and I started to feel kind of warm and sleepy, but not tired sleepy, just sort of out of it. He kept doing that, just moving his hand up my leg with this just right amount of pressure. None of the girls I'd fooled around with ever did that. He leaned toward me real slow and kissed me, but softer than he had downstairs. This kiss gave me room to stop it or get up if I wanted to.

I laid back and he kept doing what he was doing, the hand on my leg, the soft kiss, his other hand touching my head, smoothing my hair. I closed my eyes. I wanted this to be a secret. But the secret thing made it sort of more exciting, the danger that someone would walk in kind of heightened things. It was a real possibility that Joey would come home soon, his dates were unpredictable. Sometimes he was out all night if things went well. Sometimes he was home like an hour later.

He inched his hand up my leg, stopped kissing me and starting nibbling on my earlobe, which tickled kind of but felt kind of good. He wasn't pressing into me and pinning me to the bed like he'd done before.

"Do you still like girls?" Marco said in a whisper, his mouth right next to my ear.

"Huh? Yeah," I said. It was never a question of liking girls. Of course I liked girls. They were irresistible. The way they smelled and their soft skin and their sweet voices…this thing with Marco was some sort of extra thing. It wasn't who I was.

"Yeah, I knew you did," he said, but not mad, just sort of matter-of-fact.

This seemed like it was one of Joey's better dates, he'd been gone awhile. I knew Angela was asleep for good. Marco straddled me, his knees digging into the mattress on either side of me. He kissed me but that was all.

"Craig," he said into my ear, "let's do more," but I shook my head no. I couldn't. I couldn't do any more. He wasn't mad, just did what I would let him.

Monday at school I was eating lunch outside, sort of scanning the place for Ashley but I didn't see her. In the sun Ellie's hair looked really red, like an unbelievable sort of red. I noticed this as she walked right toward me.

"Craig," she said, peering at me with her little eyes.

"Yeah?" Ellie was kind of like a guilty conscience, in a way. I noticed how pale she looked in the sun, how black her clothes were.

"Isn't there anything you think you should tell Ash?" She stared at me unflinching and my mouth dropped open. All at once I got it. Marco told her. He told her about us. I didn't know what to do. I could pretend like I didn't know what she was talking about, deny it up and down like some politician. I could tell by her beady eyed little stare that she wanted me to confess to Ashley.

I hung my head. Swallowed hard.

"Marco told you?"

"Yeah,"


	6. Chapter 6

Oh man I wanted to kill Marco right then. He told. It was, this was just fooling around, this was just between me and him. I couldn't deal with people knowing. I wasn't going to deal with people knowing.

Ellie kept looking at me all calm, which made me angrier.

"Craig, look, it's okay-" She put her hand on my shoulder but I shrugged her off.

"No, it isn't, Ellie. How is this okay?" I heard the anger in my voice. I felt so out of control when I was angry. I felt like my father.

"It's okay to be gay-"

"Jesus, Ellie! Shhhh, shut up. I'm not gay. Just because I, I mean, because me and Marco did whatever doesn't mean anything,"

She gave me that look, that jaded cynical above it all look. I looked away. The color of her hair shining in the sun was hurting my eyes.

"Whatever, Craig. Maybe you're bisexual. But I do know one thing. Either you tell Ashley or I will,"

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Concentrating on any type of school thing was out of the question for the rest of the day. Tell Ashley? Just exactly how was I going to do this? 'Ashley, guess what? I made out with Marco and I think he wants to fuck me but I won't let him. Want to go see a movie?' I mean, she'll freak. She'll absolutely freak.

It wasn't Ellie's business, that's what made me so mad. It wasn't her right to tell Ashley anything. And Marco, what did he have to lose by blabbing to Ellie about me and him fooling around? Huh? Nothing. Me, I had everything to lose.

"Marco!" I saw him at his locker when I was still halfway down the hall. He looked up, guilty. Guilty face.

"Craig, hey, buddy-"

"Hey, nothing. Come here," I dragged him with me to the empty hall that's behind the stage. No one was ever there and it was practically sound proof.

"Marco, you told Ellie," I licked my lips and stared at him, tried not to punch him but it was hard.

"Yeah, I did-"

"Well, how could you? I mean, this is our business. Not Ellie's. Not anyone else's. So now she thinks I'm gay or bi, Jesus Marco!"

"Craig, look, I'm, um, I'm sorry. I just, I tell Ellie everything, so I told her this," Marco, his pleading big dark eyes, his black hair, his preppy clothes. I was so mad at him I took him by the shoulders and shook him. He closed his eyes, kind of shrunk down into himself. Then I let him go and he opened his eyes and looked at me.

"Yeah, great, Marco. Now I have to tell Ashley,"

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I didn't want to do this. It was after school and she was sitting on the stone wall near the sidewalk. She was so pretty. Her dark hair with the red dye in it, her dark eye shadow, everything. It wasn't fair. I loved Ashley. I could marry Ashley. I didn't want to marry Marco. I didn't even want to see Marco anymore.

"Ashley," I started, and she looked up at me all worried.

"What's wrong?"

"I have to tell you something," I couldn't even look at her. I looked at my sneakers.

"What? What is it?"

I sat next to her on the stone wall. It was cool, and I shivered in my sweatshirt. She put her hand on my knee. I liked the feel of her touching me.

"I kissed Marco,"


	7. Chapter 7

"You did what?" she said, her mouth open, her head tilted down. Ashley shock. I moved my mouth but no words were coming out.

"Craig?" She shook her head and then looked at me and I looked away.

"Oh, man," she said so softly, and I didn't want her to be hurt by this, it didn't mean anything, not like what she meant to me. She took a deep breath and I noticed all the cracks in the sidewalk near us, other kids walking home, the sounds of cars in the distance.

"Craig, are you…gay?" I cringed. I was coming to hate that question. And I wasn't, not like Marco was.

"No! No, it wasn't…it isn't like that. It isn't like what you think. I went to that party with Marco, the one at Dylan's dorm and um, Marco was all upset because Dylan wanted to see other people and he…he kissed me trying to make Dylan jealous…that's all it was," I felt all breathless, and that wasn't a lie. More of a sin of omission.

"Oh," She smiled a puzzled little smile and I thought about Ellie, and how Marco probably told her everything and she'd probably tell Ashley the rest of it. That was just my luck. It wasn't fair. This thing with Marco wasn't anyone else's business.

Quiet. We just sat on the stone wall in the sun and I contemplated telling her the rest of it so I wouldn't have to worry about Ellie spilling it to her. But I was scared to tell her. Maybe if she knew all of that she'd think I was gay.

"Marco kissed you, that's no big deal," she laughed, and I felt guilty.

"Yeah, I guess not,"

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Friday night. Ash was busy. Joey had a date again.

"Jesus, Joey! How about I just babysit every Friday night! I'm glad you have yourself a live in babysitter," I was pissed, but Joey just smiled and primped in front of the mirror.

"I knew I had you come live here for something," Big Joey smile and laugh. Whatever. I gave up.

"It's not like you have plans," he said, eyeing me. I scowled. He was right, I didn't have plans.

"Fine. Just go. Have fun being a superstud,"

"I will, thanks,"

Out the door, and it was kinda late. Ang was already asleep on the couch, looking uncomfortable. I carried her up to her room, laid her on the bed. She stirred a little and smiled. Mumbled something that might have been goodnight. I tiptoed out, shut her door softly. When I got back downstairs Marco was sitting there. I jumped. He laughed.

"What do you want, traitor?" I said.

"I know, I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have told Ellie,"

"Yeah, you shouldn't have,"

"I brought something as an apology," he said, holding up a fifth of Jack Daniels. I smiled.

"I'll get the cups,"

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We went up to my room so Joey wouldn't see us drinking and lecture me. I brought up a two liter of soda and two glasses, the thick square ones. Marco dumped in the alcohol and I poured in the soda. I gulped it down, still able to taste the sharp liquor. It burned kind of but it felt good. I liked drinking, liked it a lot. I felt better when I drank. I could finally relax after a few drinks. That made me laugh, though, like I was some business man having a martini after a rough day. Hell, I've had my share of rough days.

After a few drinks we were both on my bed, and I started to worry about feeling dizzy, being hung over.

"You shouldn't have told Ellie," I said again, and heard the slur in my words. Shit, I was drunk.

"I know. I know. I'm sorry, alright?" he said, and leaned close to me, touched my lips with his index finger. I pulled away. He smiled, and I wondered if he was as drunk as I was. He touched my lips again, softly, and this time I let him. I felt almost too drunk to protest anything, and it seemed like he wasn't drunk at all.

"Okay?" he said, his voice just above a whisper, and he leaned close to me again, kissed my cheek and then my lips, closed mouth and so soft, again and again. He put his hand on my chest, gentle pressure pushing me down and I let him push me, felt drunk, felt almost like if I moved I'd be sick.

"Marco-" It was barely a whisper and even just his name was all slurred, and maybe I'd drank most of the alcohol because he didn't seem drunk at all, and he pushed me until I was laying down and the room started to spin in wild arcs around the bed and I closed my eyes, prayed, 'don't let me be sick, please,' and I felt Marco undoing my jeans, pulling the zipper down quick. I didn't want to open my eyes. I didn't care. I felt like if I moved my head would explode into a thousand pieces. I shifted a little and I felt the sudden cold of the room because he'd slipped my jeans off and still I didn't open my eyes. I was numb. I was drunk. I couldn't stop him if I'd wanted to.


	8. Chapter 8

"Marco, don't…" Just barely a whisper, and he couldn't hear me anyway. And even with my eyes closed the room and the world were spinning. Maybe having my eyes closed was making it worse. I was so drunk I felt numb, my teeth were numb. I could feel Marco touching me, doing what he wanted to do, but I could barely feel it.

I didn't care. I was too drunk to care. I was removed from this situation, and everything was muffled, underwater. The only thing I was connected to was the nausea, the feeling like I was about to puke up everything I'd ever eaten, ever.

"Marco-" I used all of my energy to push him off of me because I was about to puke all over him, all over the bed, the wall. I stumbled to the bathroom, dimly hoping Joey wasn't home.

I came back to my room, the awful taste in my mouth, digestive acid or something. But I felt clearer, less underwater than I had before.

Marco laughed at me, laying on the bed and waiting for me.

"I'm gonna die," I said, and he laughed again.

"No, you're not. You puked, that's all,"

"It's alcohol poisoning,"

I saw my jeans crumpled up on the floor by the bed and I pulled them on. Marco didn't protest, just watched me. I laid next to him and closed my eyes.

"I feel like shit," I said, and he laughed again.

"What did you drink so much for?" he said.

"I don't know,"

I looked at him, my stomach cramping, my tongue coated with that awful coating. He was pushing it, as far as I was concerned. I was getting paranoid, thinking he'd had me drink that much on purpose so he could do what he wanted to me. And now he was pretending to be innocent.

"You better go," I told him, turned my head.

"Why?"

"Because I feel like shit,"

Without further protest he got up, shrugged into his jacket and left. I closed my eyes, felt my stomach twist and I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping I wouldn't puke again.

0000000.……0000000.…….0000000.…..

Things were sort of crashing down around me. Ashley showed up at my house the next day a little pissed off. I knew she was. I still felt all hung over despite the four Tylenols I'd popped. Wrung out and tired, like a shell. A dried up empty shell. I was sitting in the chair in the living room watching her pace around, pull on her short skirt, trail one finger nail along a run in her tights.

"Look, Craig, tell me the truth. What's going on with Marco?"

I sighed, closed my eyes. Goddamn that Ellie. What business was it of hers? Guess that didn't matter now, the damage was done. Confession time.

"It was just, after he kissed me at Dylan's party, things sort of went beyond that. A couple of times. But I'm, I'm not gay, I swear. And I'm not in love with him or anything. I'm in love with you," I was hung over, tired, and it didn't sound energetic and convincing. I looked at her, watching her confused and angry expression go to being just confused.

"Did you have sex with him?"

"No! No, it was just kissing and a little more, not much more. It's just experimenting, I guess," Jeez, I wouldn't be this upset if she was kissing some girl. I didn't think.

Now she looked puzzled and hurt, and I felt guilty. And I felt mad at Marco for spilling it like that.

Monday. Bright sunny day, and Ashley's look of being so hurt was haunting me. I was pretty pissed off about it. At myself, sort of. I didn't stop any of it when I could have, even though he did kiss me out of the blue that first time. At Marco for telling Ellie, although I understood that he told her everything. And Ellie, that self righteous little bitch, deciding what people should know.

Lunchtime. Ellie was outside, looking pale in the sun, her hair red red when the sun shone on it. She ate her sandwich, and I noticed the long narrow black sleeves on her shirt, the chains on her jeans, the silver piercing-s glittering in the sun. Narrowed my eyes at her. She made Ashley look so hurt, put that tone of sorrow in her voice. I walked toward her.

"Craig," she said, biting into her sandwich again. I sat opposite of her at the picnic table.

"Did you fess up?" she said, looking up at me for a split second and then down at her sandwich.

"Yeah, thanks to you," She smiled around her mouthful of white bread and baloney, a self righteous little smile that I wanted to wipe right off of her face.

"What business is this of yours?" I said, leaning over the table, getting close enough to her to smell that weird perfume she wore.

"Because Ashley is my friend, that's what makes it my business,"

"No, it doesn't. That doesn't give you the right to tell her anything like that,"

"Look, Craig, I don't care if you're gay or not, or bi, or whatever. That isn't the point. You're cheating on Ashley. It's cheating even if it's with a boy, you know. And it's not fair for Ashley not to know. And what the hell, anyway? Don't you ever learn? You cheated on her last year, this year. You're a crappy boyfriend, you know that? And Ashley deserves better,"

I slammed my fist into the top of the table, hurting my hand more than the table. Ellie jumped back like I was gonna hit her, and I wanted to. I really wanted to.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: I am aware, and some of you have pointed out, that Marco isn't really in character. I can't seem to get him under control, even though I'm writing it. He's doing what he wants. Anyway, it's sort of based on the way he kissed Craig in the stairwell at the party, sort of aggressive and unexpected and not really caring if Craig wanted to be kissed or not. This is the basis for this Marco. So, on with our regularly scheduled program.**

Goddamn that Ellie, I was so pissed off at her. And she was still looking at me with that self-righteous smug look. But there was no talking to her. There really wasn't any talking to any of them. I was gonna take a break. I needed a break. A break from Ellie, from Ashley, from Marco. I didn't think I could take it anymore. So I looked at her with my cross-jawed, narrow eyed angry look, turned, and walked away.

It was easier than I thought it would be to ignore Marco. We only had a few classes together and I just showed up late to those, so then class was started and he couldn't talk to me. But he managed to corner me after one of them.

"Craig…" I barely looked at him, pretending to be busy.

"Yeah?"

"Doing anything tonight?" Marco. God. That look in his eyes and I looked down at the floor, at my sneakers, and I could feel his eyes on me.

"Yeah, uh, I have to help Joey with this thing…"

I took off, just left him there. Ran smack into Ashley.

"Craig," she said, coming toward me, holding onto the collar of my jacket. I let her pull me toward her, felt lost in her jewel blue eyes, and when she talked I could smell her fruity gum.

"I can't stop thinking about this thing with Marco…"she said, and I was tired of this.

"Look, it didn't mean anything, okay? It isn't important," She looked at me like she didn't believe me.

Before the final bell I saw Ellie in the halls, in my classes, looking at me like she knew more about me than I did. Judgmental bitch. And finally, finally, the day was over. I felt all this tension in my muscles, felt so stiff, wound up.

At home I just sat in front of the T.V. Mindless shit, but that was what I needed. Joey kept looking at me like he knew something was wrong and I thought about telling him the whole fucked up situation, but I couldn't. That would be all I needed, for Joey to think I was gay on top of all the other screwed up shit in my life.

There was a knock at the door and I knew it was Marco or Ashley. I knew it like being psychic. But I didn't get up. Joey was in the kitchen and he gave me that quizzical look, like I was closer, but I just shrugged. He strode past me and answered the door.

"Is Craig home?" It was Marco. I slumped down on the couch, maybe he wouldn't see me.

"Yeah, he's right here," Joey said. Judas.

"Craig," Marco stood by the couch, his hands in his pockets, and he looked sort of sad, sort of troubled.

"Hey," I said, and Joey had gone back into the kitchen. I didn't want to look at Marco. Not really.

"Can we go up to your room?" he said, his hands still in his pockets, and he rocked back on his heels. I looked down, took a deep breath. I should say no, I should make him go away. I wanted a break. I did.

"Yeah, sure,"

Upstairs, in my room, he shut the door behind him. I just stood in the middle of the room, and he stood by the door. I waited. Waited for whatever it was he was gonna say.

"Craig, listen, I'm sorry I told Ellie, I never should have. I didn't think she'd tell Ash. I mean, I wouldn't have told her if I knew she was planning on telling her. I didn't, I mean, I didn't mean to hurt you,"

I looked at him, my expression still hurt. He came toward me, put his arms around me, and whispered in my ear, "Craig, I'm sorry," and it sent a chill through me, the way he whispered in my ear. I shivered.

"Yeah, I know," I said, my voice kind of cracking, and he was still close to me, his arms still around me, and I didn't pull away.

"Do you forgive me?" he said in my ear, and I didn't answer. He kind of guided me over to the bed and I let him. Maybe I was tired of fighting, tired of resisting. He said it again, asked again if I forgave him, and I shrugged. I wasn't real good at forgiving people for things.

"I don't know," I said, and he kissed me, kissed my neck, kissed my lips even though I was sort of turned away from him. But I liked it, liked how it felt even though it was hurting Ashley and it was sort of hurting me. I still liked it. I turned toward him and kissed him back. Felt his hands on my chest and stomach, closed my eyes and kissed him, he kissed me. He rested his hand on the button to my jeans and the zipper but he didn't try to undo them or anything. I was sober now so I wouldn't have let him. Maybe he knew that. I didn't know. I didn't know what he knew.

We stopped kissing, I mean, he stopped, and my lips felt sort of bruised. He sat up a little and I didn't.

"Maybe you should go," I suggested, and he shook his head no.

"I don't think so," he said, twirling some of my hair between his fingers, "not yet,"

I was laying down and he leaned over me, kissed me hard, so hard I couldn't breathe. Then his hand did go for the button to my jeans and he twisted it open, started reaching his hand into my jeans and I grabbed his wrist.

"No," I said, but kind of breathless. Maybe I wanted him to. I didn't know what I wanted.

"Why?" he said in a sort of joking, pleading way, and twisted his wrist in my grasp. But I wouldn't let go.

"I don't know…" I said, and he was kissing me again, and I felt his tongue flicking against mine, and his other hand reached for the top of my jeans, and I thought, 'what if Joey walks in?' Shit, that would not be good. I let him get further, a little further but I grabbed that hand, too.

"Marco…"

"What?" he smiled at me all crazy, and I looked away for a second. When I looked back at him he almost looked mad, and he kissed me again but in a pissed off way, and then he grabbed my wrists and pinned them down. I could get away. I was sure I could. What could he do? I was stronger than he was. But I didn't even try, just felt his hands squeezing my wrists and for a second it reminded me of how my dad used to do that. I winced, closed my eyes. In a second I'd get away.

"You kind of piss me off," he said, and pressed my wrists into the bed, and I twisted them a little but I wasn't trying to get away, not yet.

"Why?" I said, and was surprised at how young I sounded, at how much the way he was holding my wrists reminded me of my dad.

"Because you don't know what you want,"

I pulled my wrists up fast, breaking his grip. I stood up and turned away from him, rubbed my wrists where he had held them like people do after they get out of handcuffs.


	10. Chapter 10

Black hair. Big dark eyes. Tan skin. He was so good looking, so…something. I didn't know. And he was right, I supposed. I didn't know what I wanted. I wanted Ashley. I didn't really want this complication, this whole screwing up of my sexual identity. It was girls. I mean, I'd never thought of boys that way until he kissed me.

He stood up, kind of jumped up fast and I jumped back. He came at me, pinned me against the wall, and I noticed how much taller I was than he was. But he was strong.

"You don't know what you want," he said, but less mad, his voice low, his eyes half shut.

"I know," I said, and leaned down to him, kissed him, a long, slow, soft kiss.

01234567890

I couldn't stand school lately. Marco giving me these secret little smiles. Ashley looking slightly stunned, slightly hurt. Ellie looking self-righteous. All of them pulling and pulling at me, and I was letting them all down. Disappointing all of them.

Outside at lunch time, the sun so bright, and I squinted against it. Spinner was sitting at the picnic table, a bottle of soda in his hand.

"Dude, seat's open," he said, and I looked at him, shrugged, sat next to him.

"Uh, man, can I ask you something?" he said, looking at me in that dimwit Spinner way.

"What?" I said, shaking up my chocolate milk.

"What the hell are you doing?" Spinner's hair looked kind of ridiculous like that, all straight and three colors. He must have to do shit to it to get it to look like that all the time. I mean, my hair just kind of curls up if I don't do anything to it, which isn't that good, but whatever.

"What?"

"Cheating on Ash again? I mean, everyone knows," I looked at him with wide eyes. What? I was gonna hyperventilate. I already couldn't breathe. There was no air.

"Everyone knows what?" I said sharply, really sharply.

"Everyone knows you're cheating on her with someone," he said, and drank his soda.

"Who? Did they say who? Not that it's true, but did they say who it is?" I said, aware that I sounded sort of paranoid.

"No, dude. No one seems to know that. So who is it?"

"No one. It's no one. It's a lie, a rumor. It's just, like, vicious gossip," I said, feeling relieved that people didn't know it was Marco. But maybe it was only a matter of time.

"Sure. Craig, this is you we're talking about. You're a big stud, we all know this. So come on, who is it?"

"No one Spin. No one. I swear to God,"

01234567890

Maybe God would strike me down, since it was someone. And maybe I was so mad at Ellie because she was right, cheating was cheating, whether it was a male or female or whatever. I was hurting Ashley again. It was like I couldn't stop myself from hurting her. But in my defense Marco wasn't leaving me alone, he kept showing up, he kept pushing me and taking and taking despite what I wanted. I didn't quite know what to do.

Practicing late one night in my garage, the Christmas lights twinkling behind me. And who shows up? Like always, always. Marco. I saw him standing there in his Marco way, hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. I kept playing. It was all I could do. The notes just kept coming.

"Craig?"

I sighed, kept playing the song I was working on. It was hard to ignore him, but I was trying. I could see his black hair and how it hung over his forehead, how long his eyelashes were. Shit.

"Craig?"

"What!"

So now I put down the guitar. Glared at him, my feet spread apart. His head was down and he was looking up at me. My breathing quickened. I wanted him and I didn't want him and I liked all this attention and it bothered me. I was all conflicted. So the easiest thing to fall back on was anger.

"What's going on?" he said, and I just lost it.

"Nothing! Nothing! Just, Marco, leave me alone! You've ruined things with Ashley, it's all over school-"

"I ruined things! What about you? Do you ever take responsibility for anything? You did things, too!" he yelled, and now his head was up, and I saw the anger in his eyes, and I wouldn't flinch away.

"You told Ellie! You're the one responsible for spreading it all over the fucking school! So don't try to turn things back on me!"

I shoved him and he stumbled back, regained his footing and shoved me. I fell back, knocked over my guitar, kind of fell on top of it. He came at me, punching me on my arms. The feeling of being hit so brought me back to when I lived with my dad. I closed my eyes for a second, trying not to cry, but then anger blocked it out and I stood up, came at him, and just punched him over and over.


	11. Chapter 11

Shit. Shit. I'd kind of lost myself there for a second, punching him over and over. It was kind of like blacking out. I looked at him, curled on the floor, his arms up to protect his face. I had that crushing feeling that I was like my dad. I was just like him.

"Oh my God," I said, and tried to pull his arms away from his face, "are you okay?"

He stood up, brushed himself off, and looked at me with this combination of caution and horror.

"Jesus, Craig, what is wrong with you?"

I sat down on the couch, hung my head. I didn't know. Everything had just got so complicated.

"I don't know. Marco, look. I'm sorry, okay?"

He didn't say anything. Just stood there looking at me with that same look. Things weren't okay.

01234567890

Marco left, and it was awkward. I mean, I didn't know where we stood. It was sort of giving me a headache trying to figure it out and I was just going to stop thinking about it. Then Joey called and said he had to work late so that meant I had to make supper for Angie.

I didn't mind, really. It gave me something to do besides thinking about Marco and Ashley and wondering about all that shit. In times like this I wish my mom was still alive. I could have talked to her about it, or sort of about it. I used to be able to talk to her about anything. I bit my lip. It wasn't true, that wasn't true. I think half the time I made up things about my mother because she was fading. I didn't tell her my dad was beating me…that would have been something to talk about it. I had tried to make her think what I tried to make everyone think, and that was that things were just fine.

I wasn't a gourmet cook or anything. I just made grill cheeses with the slice of tomato in them. Poured us some juice. Talked about her day. Man, sometimes I completely envied Angie. Her life was so simple. But I guess it would get all complicated, just like everyone's does.

When the phone rang I thought it would be Joey saying he was staying even later at work or going on a date or something, but it wasn't Joey.

"Craig?" It was Ashley.

"Yeah. Hi,"

"Hi. Listen, can you come over?"

"Uh, maybe. Joey's at work late, but when he gets home I can probably come over,"

"Okay. Just call me if you can't come. Bye."

Ashley was upset. I mean, I knew she was. But I heard it so clear in her voice. I half hoped Joey would be way too late and he'd say I couldn't go when he got home. But that wouldn't help anything. I'd still have to face Ash sooner or later.

Joey got home just as it was almost time for Ang to go to bed. His tie was half undone but he looked happy. He must have sold some cars. He kissed Ang and nodded at me, brought her upstairs to bed and to read her a story. I sat on the couch and thought of telling Joey. Who cared if he thought I was gay? I wasn't. Bi, maybe. But maybe he'd know what to do about Ash and Marco pulling me apart.


	12. Chapter 12

"Joey," Joey had come back downstairs, and now his tie was off and the first few buttons of his dress shirt were undone. He was in the kitchen struggling with a cork on a wine bottle. I sat on the couch, my legs stretched out in front of me.

"Yeah. What?" He had twisted off the thick paper around the cork and now he was twisting the metal corkscrew into it.

"Listen, what would you do if, uh…" I couldn't quite think how to put it. I couldn't tell him it was Marco. But I didn't want to lie. I watched him pour the wine into a wine glass. It was red. Joey always drank red.

"Okay, what would you do if you liked two people, or, uh, two people liked you…" I tried again. It didn't go very well. Joey came into the living room, sipping his wine as he walked. He gave me that look, kind of one eyebrow raised, that look like I was doing the wrong thing.

"Craig, you're not cheating on Ashley again, are you?"

I swallowed hard, thinking of the disaster with Manny and Ashley last year. Shook my head. I didn't learn.

"Yeah. Sort of. But what would you do?" I needed help, some kind of help. Joey was all I had. He drank more wine and thought it over.

"You've got to decide who you like more, who you really want to be with. It's not fair to either person for you to be stringing them both along. You've got to decide,"

I nodded. He was right. It wasn't fair to any of us. But it wasn't like I chose it. Marco kind of just did it. And it was easy not to choose. Because I liked them both, but with Marco it was different. I liked it and I didn't. I didn't know.

"Who is it?" Joey said, swirling the wine around in the glass. I bounced my legs up and down. This was making me nervous. Could I tell him? Let him think I was gay?

"It's, uh, no one. I mean, I can't tell you," He smirked at me. He was amused. I was glad this was so damn humorous for him. And I had to go and see Ashley. She'd asked me to.

"I have to go somewhere for a little while," I told him, standing up. He nodded. I licked my lips. I didn't really want to go. I'd heard bad news in her voice.

So I walked there, shivering in my jean jacket. I'd wanted to get back together with her so bad and now I was jeopardizing it. It was stupid. It was Ashley. I had to choose Ashley.

Her house loomed ahead in the gloom, like some horror movie house. God, I sucked at relationships. I'd find any way possible to fuck them up.

I knocked and Toby answered the door. He always did.

"Hey, Craig," he said, opening the door wide to let me in. I stepped inside, feeling the warmth in my fingers and toes.

"I'll go get Ashley," he said, and I just stood near the door, rubbing my hands together. She was pissed at me, I could feel it.

"Hi," she said, suddenly standing right there. She had been crying, her eyes were puffy. I blinked stupidly. I felt so bad when I hurt her.

"Let's go up to my room," she said, and I nodded and followed her upstairs. Her house was bigger and nicer than Joey's, but not as nice as my dad's.


	13. Chapter 13

Ashley's room was a real girl's room, there were stuffed animals everywhere and the curtains were all velvety and thick and came down to the floor. She had all these pillows on her bed, some were pink satin and some were black satin and some had lace around them, and there were porcelain dolls on the shelves.

We were both sitting on her bed but sort of across from each other. She was looking down, she was twisting her hands together, examining the nails. I kept trying to get her to look at me but she wouldn't. I felt awful about this whole thing. But I knew that I felt so awful because she knew, that was the worst part. It wasn't that I had fooled around with Marco that was making me feel so bad. It was only because she knew that I had that I felt bad, and I felt bad about that.

It was fucked up. This year had been all about getting Ashley back and Marco went and screwed it up for me. I swallowed hard and looked down. I couldn't blame him. I'd been there, too. It was my fault.

"Craig," she said, and there was such resignation and sorrow in the way she said my name. It was staggering.

"Yeah?" I said, looking at her not looking at me. I was afraid to touch her. I was afraid that if I went to take her hand she'd jerk it away from me like I was a leper or something. Like I'd contaminate her.

"I tried to let it not bother me, this thing with Marco. At first it didn't seem like a big deal, but it's just been bothering me. Last year, with Manny, it took me such a long time to get over that. I thought you'd learned something from that whole thing. I thought we were better now. I thought it was working. But now…" She shook her head and I could see the tears that were starting to form in her eyes. Shit. Why did I always fuck things up like this?

"Ashley, listen-"

"No, Craig, I can't. I can't listen to your lies and excuses anymore. I just can't. You're hurting me again. I love you, God knows I do. But I can't be with you. I can't be your girlfriend anymore because I just can not trust you. I know you have issues. I know. And I feel sorry for you because of that. But I can't be the one that you work them out on. You have to figure it out for yourself. I know you seem to think everyone who loves you will hurt you or something, so you go around and hurt them first. But I can't take it anymore. If it wasn't Marco it would have been someone else. You would have cheated again. But I'm done, Craig. I'm done. Goodbye,"

She stood up. So did I. She wanted me to leave. She stood near her dresser with her arms crossed, her lips pressed together, tears in her eyes. I took a step toward her.

"Ashley," I said, my voice soft. She took a step back, shook her head.

"No, Craig. You've got to go,"

I nodded. Okay. So this was it. I left. It was a long walk home.

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"What's wrong?" Joey said, taking one look at my face. He was still sipping his wine and watching some movie on HBO. It was filled with car chases and explosions and angry looking overweight Italian men who might have connections to the mob.

"Ashley dumped me," I said, staring at the T.V. and the skinny guy who was twirling a handgun around one finger in some dimly lit garage.

"Again?" Joey said.

"Yeah. Again. It's over and my life sucks," I put my head in my hands but I wasn't crying. I felt too numb to cry. The guy on the T.V. fired the gun, and I wondered vaguely if he shot someone else or himself.


	14. Chapter 14

I wasn't looking forward to going to school. I'd have to avoid Ashley all day, and I know she'd pin me in the hall with that blue gaze of hers. I never felt more guilty then when I'd let Ashley down.

I thought of staying at home. Joey wouldn't mind. He understood about "mental health days". But it wouldn't do any good. I'd have to face it sooner or later. So I forced myself to get up when the alarm clock went off, forced myself to go downstairs and eat a tasteless bowl of cereal, forced myself into the shower, the hot spray feeling good against my skin. I wanted to stay in the shower all day, breathing in the steam. I didn't want to see Ashley at school.

Joey drove me after he dropped off Ang. I looked up at the building, at all the windows reflecting the sky. Looked at all the kids just milling around. I didn't see Ash but she was there. I knew it.

"Have a good day," Joey said.

"Yeah, right," I said, and I grabbed my bag and got out of the car. He drove off, leaving me there. I should have stayed home. I remembered last year after the whole mess with Manny, seeing Ashley everywhere and her vicious stare. Damn it.

With my head down I walked toward the double glass doors, and I almost made it, too. Then I heard my name.

"Craig," I looked up. It was Ellie. She had on this kind of sheer black shirt with a tank top under it, and the sleeves were so long they went past her wrists. I didn't want to talk to Ellie. We had nothing to say to each other.

"What?" I said, my head still down, looking up at her.

"Come here. I want to talk to you," she said, and against my better judgment I went with her around the corner of the school. I shifted my school bag from one shoulder to the other.

"You know what?" she said, and her tone was accusatory, it grated on my nerves, "you have really hurt Ashley-"

"I know, alright! I know, and I don't need a lecture from you!" I took off, left her standing there with whatever else she was going to say still in her head.

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After lunch I went to the music room to play the guitar. I didn't want to see anybody or talk to anybody. I couldn't take it. I'd been avoiding Ash all day. I was exhausted. But playing the guitar was making me feel better. I could lose myself in the notes. For a second I didn't think about Ashley at all.

I finally made it home, the endless day ended. I threw my bag into the corner of the room, kicked off my sneakers, draped my jacket on the back of a kitchen chair. I grabbed a bag of chips out of the pantry and put on the T.V. Angie was at one of her endless after school activities. Joey was at work. That was nice. I had the house all to myself. I needed to be alone. Shit, did I screw things up with Ashley. She wouldn't give me a second chance now. I knew that. I ate the chips, getting the grease all over my fingers and the remote.

When I heard the knock at the door I thought maybe it was Ashley, maybe. I wiped the grease from the chips on my jeans and got up to answer it.

"Hey, Craig," Marco stood there, and I felt this mix of feelings seeing him with his hands in his pockets and his hair all styled and his trendy clothes. I swallowed hard and looked at him.


	15. Chapter 15

I licked my lips. Marco. Always showing up when I was at my most confused. I stood aside and let him in, looking at the style of his hair, the trendy clothes. I could smell his cologne. Ashley was still haunting me, but I was thinking of letting her go, just for this afternoon.

"What's up?" he said, and I mumbled nothing. Shifted my weight from one foot to the other. Wondered what he was gonna do.

He sat on the couch and I watched him, not moving, caught in some spider web.

"Uh, how's Ash?" he said, and I didn't know what to say.

"I don't know. Pissed, I guess," I said, inching my way toward the couch. I could see the late afternoon light filtering into the room, looking all gauzy and thick like curtains. I felt the fabric of the couch beneath my fingertips.

He looked up at me and kind of half-smiled, and I felt that funny, stomach twisting feeling. I was very conscious of the fact that nobody was home.

"I guess she has a right to be," he said, and for some reason I was surprised to hear this from him. I closed my eyes, tired of feeling the Ashley guilt. I didn't want to feel it right now.

"Yeah," I said, sitting on the couch next to him, flipping through the channels. I was looking at the T.V., but I could feel him looking at me. I could feel him moving closer, just a little closer. I didn't move at all.

"Listen, uh, Craig," he said, and I turned toward him, saw his eyes searching out mine, "I'm sorry I got you in all this trouble with Ash and everything," I nodded, not feeling like it was so much his fault anymore. It was also mine.

"I didn't mean to," he said, and he trailed one fingertip up my arm. His touch was light and made me shiver. I didn't move, just watched him.

"It's okay," I said, my voice thick. He was leaning closer to me, I could feel his breath. His cologne was in my nose, in my head. My confusion was thickening. I felt myself not thinking so clearly.

"Good," he said, and closed his eyes, leaning in to kiss me. All I could see was the gold light all around us, thick as soup, and the buzz and crackle of the T.V. I closed my eyes, let him kiss me, felt his tongue sneak into my mouth. I flicked it with my own. It felt good. I was tired of fighting. I put my arms up around his shoulders like girls did when I kissed them.

I heard the unmistakable sound of Joey's car in the driveway but I was still kissing Marco when I heard the car door slam, then I pulled away.

"Joey," I said, and he moved over, and we flipped the T.V. to MT.V. and we both pretended to be absorbed in the videos when Joey and Angie walked in.

"Hi, Craig, Marco," Joey said, oblivious. We said hi. Angie threw her stuff on the floor and Joey told her to pick it up and she pouted. I smiled at Marco.

"You two hungry?" Joey said.

"Why? Are you cooking?" I said, flipping the channel from MT.V. to some Nicholas Cage action movie.

"No. Ordering pizza,"

"We already ate," I said.

"C'mon, Marco, let's go up to my room," I said, and Marco smiled a wide smile at me and nodded, followed me up the stairs.


End file.
